The Proposal(34)
Emma gave a quick nod. “After that night, I knew it was meant for me to stay alive—to try to live a happy life for my parents and for Travis. I found a really good therapist, and she, along with my family and my faith, helped me through it.”
“Thank you for sharing that with me.” He leaned over and planted a kiss on the crown of her wet head. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“You really are.”
“What I did was really stupid and selfish and —”
Aidan shook his head. “I’m not going to judge you, Em. I’ve never had to go through the hell that you have. I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Thank you.”
He turned off the water. Glancing back at her, he asked, “All clean?”
She laughed. “Yes, all clean.”
He opened the shower door and went over to get her a towel and her robe. She was glad to see he still had on his underwear. Although with it soaked through, she had a very fine view of the imprint of his ass.
Rolling her eyes at her out-of-control hormones, she turned her gaze back to the tile. When he handed her the towel, she started drying off her arms and legs. He pulled her hair up and wrapped another towel around her head.
“Are you getting hungry?”
“Umm, hmm,” she murmured as she slid into her robe.
“What sounds good?”
She arched her brows in surprise. “You’ll fix anything I want?”
“Yep. Or go out and pick it up.”
“How about some of your shrimp scampi?”
Aidan nodded. “While you’re drying your hair, I’ll fix it and bring it to you.”
“Are you going to bring it on a silver tray with a rose bud in a crystal vase?” she asked, with a grin.
“Always that mouth,” he muttered as he headed out of the bathroom.
Emma giggled as she got out her hair dryer. She eased down on the toilet seat before Aidan could order her to do it. Once her hair was dry, she slid into a pair of pajamas and got into the bed. Beau happily climbed up beside her.
She eyed a stack of books on the nightstand before reading through the titles. They were predominantly nonfiction, self-help books. She picked up one of her favorites, Tuesdays with Morrie, and began rereading.
Aidan appeared a little while later with a tray with two plates and two drinks but sans the crystal vase and rose. She sniffed appreciatively. “Oh God, that smells so good!”
“Thank you.”
She eased up in bed and took the tray. As Aidan grabbed his plate, she motioned to the nightstand. “What’s up with the reading material?” she asked.
Pink tinged his cheeks. “Oh, um, well, those were recommended by my therapist.”
Emma choked on the bite of scampi she had taken. Once she recovered, she asked, “You’re in therapy?”
He nodded, turning his head from her intense gaze as he sat down in the glider. “How long have you been seeing a therapist?”
Staring at his plate, he nudged a piece of shrimp around with his fork. “Do you even have to ask?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He snapped his gaze up to meet hers. “I made an appointment the morning after I epically screwed up my life and yours.”
“I see.”
“I really like Dr. Leighton. She’s really helping me work on a lot of things.”
“How often do you go?”
“Three times a week.”
Emma gulped. “That often.” Even when she was dealing with her immense grief, she only went twice a week.
He gave her a sheepish grin. “I asked for the most intense program because I wanted to fix myself as fast as I could…for you and for Noah.”
She couldn’t still the rapid beating of her heart. He wanted to be a better man for her—to right all the wrongs he had done, and most of all be everything she wanted and needed him to be. Part of her wanted to reach over and hug him tight—to tell him that her heart still belonged to him and always would. But she couldn’t. She was too gun-shy.
“Wanna watch a movie?” he suddenly asked. When she gave him a skeptical look, he grinned. “Your pick, I promise.”
Her mind whirled with the possibilities. “The Sound of Music.”
Aidan winced. “Christ, do we really have to watch a musical?”
“You said my pick!” she countered.
“Fine, fine,” he muttered, digging into the mammoth box of DVD’s he had brought from her house. Once he found it, he popped it into the player and then grabbed his plate. He eased in the bed beside her rather than back in the glider.
“How’s the scampi?”
“Mmm, delicious.” She grinned at him. “I sure hope you made more.”